


Wanda's Best Friend -Reader Insert, 1970s Quicksilver-

by GiannaQueenofBelgium



Series: One Shots [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, X-Men (Movies), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: 1970s, 1970s Quicksilver, Band camp, Best Friends, Bets & Wagers, F/M, Fleetwood Mac, Fluff, Marvel Cinematic Universe - Freeform, Marvel Universe, Maximoff Twin Feels, Music, Post-X-Men: Days of Future Past, Quicksilver x Reader - Freeform, Reader-Insert, Siblings, Sister's best friend, X-men - Freeform, quicksilver - Freeform, vinyl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:53:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6505684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GiannaQueenofBelgium/pseuds/GiannaQueenofBelgium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter knows she's just being nice, and anyways she's completely off limits being Wanda's best friend and all. But when she shows up when Wanda is off at band camp Peter begins to question everything he's thought previously.<br/>-1970s Quicksilver Reader Insert-</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wanda's Best Friend -Reader Insert, 1970s Quicksilver-

She was Wanda’s friend, nothing more. Her making sure to pop into the basement to say hi to Peter was friend of a sibling obligation. This is what Peter said over and over to reassure himself not to take the cute girl’s flirtatious winks and teasing too seriously. It was his overactive imagination that her eyes slid slowly down his torso, or misreading her humorous smirks as seductive. He was being presumptuous, quite rude of him. He must try harder not to make assumptions.

That however became quite difficult when Y/N showed up in his basement when Wanda was away at band camp. She was in the back room, next to the water softener and heater in the far corner, digging through his vinyl collection. Her Walkman, just two years senior on his own, was hooked to the top of her bellbottoms, Fleetwood Mac blaring in her black headphones.

Peter was coming home from summer school, at top speed of course, nothing less for the crappy day. He expected the normal routine, drive Mom nuts, head out and snatch some more Twinkies from the convenient store (even though he already had over two hundred in total hidden around the house), and repeat. So when he stopped at the bottom of the stairs in a flurry of his own speed and began watching Y/N rifle through his stuff, the normal routine went out the window.

"Finally. I thought a super speed kid like you would take less time to get home," She said and pulled an album from his organizer. "Did you hear Welch left Fleetwood Mac? I’m crushed." She puckered out her bottom lip and padded over to his record player, turning it on and putting the vinyl into place.

"Yeah, I heard something about that."

"Did you know my Dad is in the music business?" She slowly lets the needle down into the turning, black disc, mesmerized by the motion. Her slender fingers go down to her Walkman, turning it off before slowly removing her headphones and letting them rest around her neck. She enjoys the sound of the static as the needle travels towards the first grooves on the album, she always has. Y/N would listen to a whole record of just static and crackling nothingness. Most people find the sound creepy, makes their spine go all shivery, but not her. She revels in the tingles.

"Wanda mentioned it. You know that she’s not here right?"

"Band camp. She abandoned me Peter, to play clarinet with a bunch of pimply freshmen. Can you believe it? Complete betrayal. Borderline mutiny I’d say." He frowns and saunters towards his favorite worn out couch, the plaid brown and orange one where he had his first kiss with the neighbor girl. He was thirteen. She moved away three months later. His first girlfriend didn’t last too long. Well, not to say the others were for much longer. He found himself staring at Y/N’s profile, specifically her lips, pasting her face on the memory of the neighbor girl.

"I-um what?" He quickly snapped out of the fantasy and hoped to all things holy he hadn’t missed anything important.

"I didn’t say anything," She turns towards him unconcerned with his current odd state, usually he’d be way more spastic, but now he’s sedated. She hopes he isn’t upset for the invasion of his room.

Wanda will be gone for three weeks. Almost an entire month. An entire month of summer vacation she’ll be left on her own. It isn’t fair. How is she supposed to survive without her partner in crime? She plunks down next to Peter and bends her head back at an almost unnatural angle over the couch's back. He moves away an inch or two. To give her air, he thinks, not himself.

"Ok, so back to my Dad." She begins, pulling herself out of the pit of despair to retell the rumors. "He’s like this famous recording studio owner, well he works in one or something, we don’t talk about it too much- separation of church and state or whatever, but he told me Fleetwood had been getting friendly with this new singer. She’s really good he says. But she has a boy’s name or something. Stevie Nicks. But she’s not going to be on keyboard, so I don’t know who is gonna replace Welch. Hope she’s good." Peter nods, watching her, mesmerized that her bad storytelling that nears rambling can be so interesting.

"Yeah."

"Mhhmm."

"Yeah…"

God, he is probably wishing she’d leave already. But what is there to leave to? Dad is at the studio, mom is playing bridge and that is always awful to play. Everyone who comes is always smoking and that doesn’t exactly sit pretty with her sensitive lungs.

"So what are you doing today?" She asks and stares at his shoes. They’re really worn out on the toe but the tops are perfect. His shoes are always worn out, not just scuffing, but holes right through the soles worn out.

"Um, nothing. I’ve got some chores around the yarn. Mowing and stuff. Then I need to do my geometry homework," He gestures with the worn toe of his shoe towards his backpack near the steps.

"How is school going?"

"Fine." He doesn’t have much to say about school. To be perfectly honest he’s pretty ashamed to have been thrown in with the other kids who didn’t pass the tenth grade. He’s going to be 17 in two months. He shouldn’t be redoing tenth grade for the second time. But-but its so hard to concentrate sometimes. He can’t keep himself focused long enough to soak in a single word of what his teachers are saying, much less want to work on the homework when he gets home after an 8 hour day of torture.

"I got some after school tutoring from Mr. O’Brien for geometry, you want to hear some of the tips? They’re like revolutionary," She says with raised eyebrows and and almost in awe tone. He nods and she bucks up from the couch and runs to the other side of the room where her enormous duffle bag is laying. She pulls out some wrinkled papers and starts rifling through them until she comes upon the tutoring notes.

"Um, ok starting with translations. You know how they move around the plane right?"

"Yeah," She’s so focused on the papers that Peter’s eyes are allowed to travel around her face, back to those lips again.

"Well you have to think of the image as the finale product, not as the starting point like I usally do. That’s the pre-image you see, pre as in before, so the pre-image comes before the image hence the image is what would come after. Does that make sense?"

"Oh yeah totally, that makes a lot of sense now." He doesn’t want to tell her but the only part of geometry he really gets is translations and rotations and the like. But her little rambling explinations are cute and-

Wait! NO! He squeezes his eyes shut and leans away from her, how did he end up leaning so close in the first place? He breathes out slowly through his mouth and in slowly through his nose, thinking it will calm him down and make him stop being so freaking stupid. But no, it only makes things worse because now he’s got a good dose of her perfume, cinnamon and clove. His favorite. Well, his favorite purfume is actually vanilla lavender which his old piano teacher used to wear. She was his first real crush. He was ten, she was seventeen, he'll never forget how she smelled. But with her married a year after getting out of college he doesn't think of her much anymore. Y/N however is very much real, right in front of him, smelling like an autumnal dream.

"Then you know about geometric means? The book never made much sense to me, it was all this complicated series of nonesense but get this!" She hops a little in her chair, dropping some of the papers on the ground and shoving a little yellow sticky note at him.

"It's just the square root of "a" times "b"! Can you believe that?!" She's grinning. He's never grinned about math before in his life, but not he just can't help it.

"Wow, that is pretty cool."

"You can keep the sticky, I've got it in my notes at home already." He looks down as she places the note in his palm, it like the rest of her papers is wrinkled beyond belief. Now that he knows the formula he'll be able to rememeber it easy peasy, but he knows already that he won't be getting rid of the note. Just like the Valentine card she gave him three years ago that said "Thanks for being a cool friend!" on the inside, he'd be tucking this safely away.

She smiles at him as Peter turns and sticks it onto the National Lampoon poster behind the couch.

"Thanks," he says and clasps his hands together inbetween his parted knees.

"Yeah, no problem," Y/N shifts a little on her spot on the couch, first moving a little closer, then orienting herself forwards.

"So... Does your Dad ever let you watch the bands recording?" Peter leans back into the couch, the ancient springs creaking as he does so.

"Not really," She mimics his movements but keeps staring forward, his eyes are on her lips again. "He doesn't think it would be professional to bring a kid into the studio. He's been telling me that one forever now. But really I think he just likes not having me around."

"Well that's dumb." He blurts out. Y/N whips to look at him, a little surprised.

"Not-not that your Dad is dumb or anything, I'm sure he's really small and all but it is just sort of stupid- well not stupid I don't think he's stupid. But like, you're really cool and all and I don't see why anyone wouldn't want you around. Never mind I'm shutting up now. Sorry."

"No," Y/N begins and Peter expects her to stand up, curse at him, and leave for being a jerk about her Dad. "Thanks for saying that." Her tone is soft and even, a shock stronger than if she would have slapped him.

"What?" Peter squeaks.

"Well, Mom is always making excuses for why he's gone all the time. Wanda is my best friend, but she can do the same thing too sometimes. It is nice having someone on my side."

"They're both on your side, Y/N." She nods but isn't convinced.

"I know, I guess."

"Is there anything else you want me to be upset about with you?"

"Sesame Street."

"S-Seasame street?"

"Yeah. It started when I was eleven and I never got to watch it when I was little. So to make up for my lost childhood every Sunday I watch an episode. But that makes me feel weird and you should be mad about that with me. I just want to watch muppets without guilt."

"Dumb muppets airing too late in your life. Stupid life making you think its weird you watch it on Sundays."

"Exactly."

"I don't think its stupid."

"No?"

"Nah." He grins and she beams at him, her knees slowly turning towards him. She's opening up, Peter thinks, this is the first time they've really talked together. Well, yeah they've chatted while Wanda was getting ready before Y/N and her left, or over dinner when Y/N's spent the night, but never like this. Telling each other crazy secrets, its exhilerating. Peter tries to remember to not look at her lips. It's hard.

"What about you?"

"'What about me?"

"Things must bother you too Peter."

"I don't like feeling dumb."

Y/N frowns and leans back a little, looking at his eyes with a furowed brow. Her lips form around a silent "what?" and she just stares at him for a while.

"You're not dumb Peter." He rolls his eyes and sighs. Peter didn't want it to turn into this, some counciling session, he just wanted to keep it lighthearted like they'd been doing. He should have said he hated tomatoes and how they seem to be on everything. Or maybe how aggrivating it was when you bite into a chocolate chip cookie only to find out it is rasin.

"Never mind, let's talk about something else."

"No," She put her hand on his thigh and stares at his eyes until he meets hers.

"Peter you are not dumb. This whole school thing is rigged for people like you."

"Idiot people?" She digs her fingernails into his leg a little, making him jump.

"Don't say things like that. You're special, you're amazing Peter, and sometimes our gifts can make things hard on us. Think about the people who are really good at school, they gloat about it, they hang it over everyone elses heads." Peter's mind immediatly goes to one boy, Jacob, he's such a jerk. Throughout the entire 10th grade they kept ending up as lab partners and Jacob would constantly assult him with insults. It wasn't that bad until people started finding out Peter would be repeating Sophmore year. Then all hell broke loose. For being a scrawny little nerd Jacob could be a real bully.

"Yeah I know,"

"Do you know why?"

He waits for her response.

"They're afraid. Its not like they have an identity, any idea of what they want to be or what they want to do. So they throw themselves into their work and gloat about it constantly because its the only thing they have. The only part of their lives that they can be in control of."

"So I'm not even in control of my own grades, sounds about right."

"No, you're going to do great things. You know who you are, and they're jealous of that. Can you not see how jealous they are of you Peter?" He rolls his eyes again.

"No really!" She huffs.

"You can stop trying to make me feel good Y/N, I appreciate it but you don't have to-"

"You know Jacob Peach?"

"Yeah, sadly."

"His girlfriend Maisy has had a crush on you since Freshman year." Peter's eyes bulge out.

"You're kidding me."

"Nope."

"But how do you know?"

"Girls locker rooms are facinating places Peter, full of wonder and gossip and talks about boy's butts." Peter is turning bright red and starts laughing, hard and hearty as Jacob's hatred comes into perspective. Y/N watches him, beaming that she's finally gotten him to lighten back up.

"So what does my butt rate on the locker room scale." She snickers. "Do I really want to know?"

"Solid nine."

"Ooh, nice."

"I gave it a ten but the majority rules there." He cocks an eyebrow, she's back to her flirty ways but he doesn't mind it too much. Although his hopes are getting stupidly raised once again he doesn't care, the gossip she's given him will keep him riding pretty for weeks.

"A ten, really?"

"Oh yeah."

"Not too shabby," Y/N leans forward and bats her eyelashes.

"I might have to call a meeting to review the previous judgements, nine just doesn't seem adequit."

"Y-you better," He feels his eyes closing, her hand snaking around his neck and pulling him closer.

Peter can't believe this is actually happening, Y/N's lips on his, one hand in his arm and the other on his leg. He stays stock still for a couple second before letting his own palms find soft spots to hold onto. It feels right. Like a hurrican is blowing around them, making them breathe short and rapid, but pulling them into one another like two halves of a whole coming together. Everything is perfect- then she pulls away.

Y/N's eyes look to the ceiling, cheeks flushed and chest rising up and down like a hummingbird. He holds onto her waist, her own hands on his wrists, holding them apart.

"Dang," She whispers and closes her eyes, thick lashes shaking as she winces.

"No, I'm sorry I-" He should have stopped looking at her lips, fantising what they tasted like, long ago.

"Not that, I owe your sister ten bucks." Peter cocks his head to the side.

"Why? Exactly?"

"She thought I wouldn't be able to wait any longer and kiss you first, I've been convinced you'd make the first move for months now. For being such a speedy boy you sure are slow."

He's quiet for a long time. Her heartbeat is loud in her ears, that knowledge should have stayed between her and Wanda, it isn't exactly kind to be taking bets on romantic relationships. She bites her bottom lip and is about to step away when his eyes flicker down once, almost too fast for her to register, and then she's wrapped up in his arms, sitting on his lap.

The speedster may not be quick for first interactions, but he's always up for seconds.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse spelling errors, I tried to have things crisp and clean but my old laptop broke and this one's word processor doesn't have spell check :/  
> Pietro, AKA Quicksilver, is known as Peter in the X-men universe because of copyright reasons for their films. So I call him as such and the Avenger's movies Quicksilver is Pietro. So please chill about the name, I already get several comments on every Quicksilver work I make about his name being wrong. So yes, I KNOW, this is a conscious choice about his name y'all.


End file.
